An Ivory Romance
by x-MJ-x
Summary: That kiss is playing on their minds, alone in their rooms they can't stop thinking about what could have happened if Hanssen hadn't disturbed them. If she can let go of her inhibitions, if he can tell her how he really feels, will they have an ivory romance?


**Hey everyone :-) **

**So I haven't written a **_**Holby **_**story in a while and when I did it was about Jac and Joseph: **_**Just Want to Be With You **_**if you were wondering, I also have another Jac and Joseph one kind of fifty percent done which I started writing in October so it might be a little out of date but I will finish it. It'll be called **_**Queen of Hearts**_** to give you some hints. For now though I wanted to address the Sahira/ Greg storyline because they are just too cute and frankly I am tired of her always making excuses (which are of course completely justified) and then just 'leaving' Holby. I thought I'd do something about it in a little story so I hope you like it. **

**As such there are likely to be spoilers from recent episodes, most specifically from **_**Butterflies**_** so be advised. **

**I hope you'll let me know what you think of this, your comments make me smile. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Holby City, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

"_Tell me I'm deluded." _Those words had been so imploring - almost as if he had been daring her to tell him exactly that, more than this though, he had sounded desperate. It seemed as though had she told him that he was in fact deluded he would have crumbled right there on the spot. So what had she done? She had said nothing and then had been so overcome by the mixed emotions which he caused every time she was near him that she had instigated a kiss. That was something new, something she had never done before and the second she had been provided with a viable excuse, namely Hanssen's message, she had done the typical 'Sahira Shah thing' and had run to the safety of her room and the locked door it presented her with.

She had thought that given the distance and the knowledge that he was kept from pursuing her for the night by the lock which she had been quick to fasten, she would feel better – calmer somehow. But this was not the case. Inside her nerves were jumping and for all the wrong reasons. She was a married woman, she was a mother and her family had to come first. He told her he understood that, that he realised she had everything to lose. She just wished that her heart would process that information. It hardly mattered what she felt in this situation. She was married to Rafi; she had a relationship with him and a duty to him as his wife. All of these things made perfect sense in her rational mind but for some reason in this situation of the highest of passions, she was rendered completely incapable of behaving in a rational way. She knew what she should do; the problem was that she was no longer sure she wanted to be the girl who always did what she should, just once she wished she could be impulsive. Give herself this one indulgence, the only thing that had ever been just for her – the undivided and hopelessly flattering attentions of a man who was not 'a member of his team' or a 'foreign colleague', who didn't make sordid attempts to grab a handful of her backside at every public benefit, although frankly she wasn't sure that he wouldn't have tried if he had been given half the chance or a little encouragement.

What was different this time was that unlike her husband's friends who saw her as some exotic and interesting prize to be won, she knew that for Greg the physical side of things between them had been put on the backburner because he appreciated her and he respected her as a thinking and feeling woman and not an object of idle amusement. She knew exactly what he had been trying to say to her that day outside of Hanssen's office. He had done everything but say the words and that truly touched her heart. Showing her that he actually cared about what she had to say, that he heard her voice and listened to all the little non-senses she had imparted to him during their decidedly short working relationship, made her feel like she had value not simply as a commodity as Rafi sometimes made her out to be but also as a woman and moreover, as a woman who was doing perfectly well in a man's world- thank you very much. He really had made her _remember who she was _and it seemed, he was perfectly willing to accept who she was. No changes, no adjustments, no crazy syrup-based diets prescribed three weeks before a major function. Just her with all her flaws and imperfections, of which she was certain there were many. What she had noticed however, was that when she was with him, the imperfections she saw in her reflection every day, the guilt she had felt rising and mounting since that very first misguided kiss seemed to disappear, vanishing into thin air until the feelings she was left with were those of a strong, confident and _beautiful _woman. It was something about the way he looked at her – like he saw the less perfect aspects of her person, he fought against them but he could also see past them to the woman she was beneath the politics and the passion for medicine, right to her very soul.

As she reflected upon this in the short moments since she had let that door swing shut and had proceeded to divest herself of the ridiculously high shoes she had been wearing for the best part of five hours, she had to wonder what she was doing sitting here in this room - the eerie half light of the impending black night shining onto her face as if illuminating her guilt - when she could just as well have been acting on that guilt and easing the tension between herself and Greg Douglas. This hardly seemed like good grounds to go marching up the corridor to his room, particularly as she suspected that the strength of her passions and the clarity of her thoughts was at current severely impeded by that extra glass of wine he had coerced her into having but somehow it made a lot more sense that sitting here, alone and in need. That was the problem, she had been in need for months, years now. She hadn't felt wanted by her husband since just after Indy's birth. Of course, it had been all smiles and happiness then and he had made love to her like the man she had been in lust and love with almost every night once her body had recovered. She now understood of course that this was his way of saying 'thank you' for bestowing upon him the son he had so desperately wanted, the insurance he had needed against the world of old principles he had yet to leave behind. Since then it had seemed like in going back to work and paving her way in the medical world as a woman to watch, she had been nothing but a disappointment to him. Despite this and the fact that she often spent most of her time on a Sunday morning scrubbing some shade of lip stain from his starched shirts, he had only become increasingly possessive. He called her every five minutes on her mobile or at work, dragging their personal life before a public tribune and if she didn't answer there was Hell to pay. She was sure that her neglect of his phone calls today would only be another problem added to the pool and she just couldn't face it. Also unattractive was the thought of sitting here mulling it all over in isolation. She needed company, she needed_ his_ company. What she wanted was a different story entirely. She wanted to feel wanted, to feel loved, to feel like a woman again but most of all she wanted him.

Of course now there was every possibility that he would shun her and she could hardly blame him. She was well aware of the game she had been playing with him – pushing him away and then reeling him back in, all without the hope of an endgame which resulted in either of their happiness. Even now as she faced the reality that many of the problems and the hesitations she experienced now were tied up with her inability to accept that she had fallen out of love with Rafi and had a long time ago, the thought of embarking on something so unknown was terrifying. Not only was it terrifying but it was wrong... so wrong and it was utter madness. She knew him, knew the fragmented ruins of his romantic past since they had worked together and she did not want to end up just another notch on his bedpost. She was worth more than that and try as she might to think otherwise, his past preceded him. She threw herself back against the white sheets and let the clutch she had been carrying flop listlessly by her side. This was all so frustrating and she just wished she knew what to do. Right on cue her phone began to ring and she wished that the Earth would just swallow her whole...

* * *

He stared at the green LED display on the clock on the nightstand with a sense of pure loathing. An hour had passed since she had shut the door in his face and it was really dragging. It wasn't exactly late but he had kicked off his polished shoes and undone the tie he had made the special effort to wear for her - everything he did he did for her just recently - and had crawled beneath the covers like a chastised child. He tried to sleep, at least that way this seemingly endless night could be passed unconsciously but it was no use. His body was refusing to surrender to that comforting lull and he knew why. That kiss. It had been even more fantastic than the two previous occasions upon which their lips had met and he knew that the reason for this had everything to do with the fact that she come towards him – it had been her lips which had made that initial contact and it had been her who had pressed her body close to his and begun to deepen the kiss. Whatever she would say in future days, for he could be sure she would say something – probably in denial - he would always have that knowledge. Of course that didn't change the fact that he was here alone and that every fibre of his being ached for her on a level he didn't understand.

She made him feel like no woman ever had before. Most of the time when he was with her, she frustrated him to the point of madness or caused him pain the like of which he both abhorred and craved. But it was when he faced the prospect of being without her, even just for an hour that he really felt himself at a loss. He hankered after her like she was his first crush and he thought about her almost every minute of the day. That was why having her here, three rooms down the hall was so difficult. She was so close and yet the moment when that door had swung back in his face wouldn't leave his mind. Neither however, would the extraordinary image of her big, beautiful and sad eyes as he had asked her to tell him what he knew must have been a virtual impossibility for her – that she felt a shift and change between them too. It was an impossible situation for them both and he couldn't take much more of it. This had to be sorted and it had to be done tonight because they couldn't go on existing like this. At least this way they would both know where they stood. With this inspiration, he sat up and threw off the covers, taking a few moments to steady his racing heartbeat – the one thing that he could not always control and which had let him down before – and then re-tied his shoe laces and exited the room. Only one thought was present in his mind: He was in love with Sahira Shah.

* * *

He hadn't planned it out – what he was going to say – but then with her he rarely did. He was prone to sudden outbursts of passion either in support of her or against that stubbornness he saw in her which could easily have been his own. More recently those outbursts had typically ended in fiery kisses and he couldn't quite quell the hope in his heart that tonight would be another such occasion as he strode with determination back up the corridor to room one hundred and eleven. He wrung his hands nervously a couple of times before raising his fist to knock. Those seconds he waited felt like hours but he did not give up hope that she would answer and soon, his nervous patience was rewarded for there in the doorway she stood, the light from the room – or maybe his overactive imagination –causing her to appear as some beautiful and mysterious deity he was privileged to view.

"Greg?" Her tone was questioning and rather than make his answer or give her the opportunity to once more shut him out, he used the slight gap that the delicious curve of her hip had created to squeeze into the room and shut the door behind himself.

She took an instinctive step back, despite the fact that he had seemed to read her mind and had anticipated her wish for his presence, almost as if they were telepathically connected. Just moments before she had stepped back into her shoes in order to seek him out but now that he was here, she hardly felt the necessity to tell him so. Suddenly, she became overwhelmed by his presence almost as if he had demanded an answer to his earlier question even though he had yet to speak a word. Her throat became tight and her breathing shallow as she waited for him to say something. She almost collapsed under the weight of his intense stare and she found herself instantly crossing her hands over her body as she felt him undress her with his beautifully tormented eyes. After a short time when so much was said in the silence between them, he spoke and once again she was gripped by terror as the words fell from his lips.

"Sahira, we need to talk." A simple enough sentence with all manner of complex meanings, none of which she could comprehend as she processed this complicated man. Perhaps he was changed after all, perhaps _she_ had changed him. She knew she was supposed to say something, to ask the nature of the conversation he wanted them to have for example, but honestly they both knew what he wanted to talk to her about. Instead, as he stood there dragging the heel of his overly shiny shoe along the plush carpet in a rather endearing manner, she decided to start her own conversation with the man who would tell her what to do.

"Rafi called." She murmured, not able to meet his eye.

"Oh?" He sounded surprised but it was likely at her casual mention of her husband as opposed to the knowledge that he had called which had shocked him.

"Yeah he told me the children are fine." She sounded relieved, though her intonation told him that she was holding something back.

"Great, so you had nothing to worry about..." He paused for a moment before deciding to add "right?"

She hesitated a moment, as if deciding whether to put her trust in him before answering. "He also said that he'd left them with their grandmother because has been chosen to go to Brussels... for an anaesthesia convention... or something." He heard the sob in the back of her throat long before that first tragic tear slid down her beautiful cheek.

"Brussels that's not that far right? He'll be back in no time." He tried to reassure her thinking that her husband's absence was the source of her pain.

She laughed then and that sound combined with the slow tears she cried made her the epitome of tormented perfection.

"You don't understand, you see Rafi has a meeting set up with his foreign colleague Ava..." She paused and he went to speak, knowing what was coming next but she held up her hand to stop his sympathy before continuing. "Let me give you some facts about Ava. She is an illustrious European, 5"9 with legs that come all the way up to her waist, she studied at Cambridge and apparently -if Rafi's credit card statement is anything to go by - has a taste for Jimmy Choo. Oh and another thing, she wears the most horrific shade of magenta lipstick I have seen in my life. Yep, my husband frequents Brussels for '_work_' you see". She finished although the final words were lost to her sobs.

That was the final straw, seeing her cry- regardless of how mesmerised he was by her tears, the sad tears of an Indian Princess- no one had the right to make her feel like that. In a matter of seconds he had covered the short distance between them and was gathering her body, which went limp at his touch, towards him before she even had time to register her protest. Her breath escaped her in a rush of air caused by the shock of his sudden movement and she felt herself collapse against him as he rubbed slow concentric patterns across her back comfortingly. For a moment she just let herself relax against him, the need to be coddled suddenly overcoming her as he held her close and soothed away her pain.

"Ok look, you can tell me to shut up, you can tell me that it's not my place but I have to say it anyway. What is wrong with this guy? He calls the most beautiful woman I've ever met his wife and instead of treating you like a Princess, he'd rather screw around with some European Barbie doll.. There must be thousands of girls like that but I've never met anyone like you. Tell me what man in his right mind goes all the way to Brussels to meet some common bit when he has a precious diamond like you at home?" He paused and she felt a fresh bout of tears preparing to spill forth.

"The man's an idiot. A bloody fool. He must be." He mused seemingly more to himself than to her.

"So you don't mind that I'm only 5"7 in heels?" She asked and he guffawed with laughter. She drew back a little then in indignation but found that she was apparently unwilling to let him go just yet.

"What?" She asked in offence.

"After all that, the thing that concerns you is that I didn't mention your height?" He sounded utterly amused by this. She nodded as if she didn't quite understand his laughter even now.

"Well, then it's a good thing I've never been attracted to girls who were taller than me then." He replied with his deep, rolling and implicitly suggestive Irish rumble.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" She asked out of genuine curiosity, not least because she knew she had taken him round the mulberry bush several times in the past few weeks. He paused for thought, wondering how he should proceed at this crucial point. What he said in the next few moments could change everything.

"Well, I think that's what people do when they're in love. I'm in love with you Sahira." He murmured the words and she knew he was not ashamed of them just frightened.

_Love. _

She had suspected it, had expected it almost, but now that he had said it suddenly it was real and she had to do something with that. That little word demanded a response, except she couldn't seem to find her voice. Instead, her fingers tightened around his back and the tension which was pent up in every sinew of her body let itself out as a sigh against his shoulder. He shifted a little restlessly and she took a little step back, her hands lying heavily on his shoulders.

"Greg..." She started and she saw the pain in his eyes.

"I'm... I'm sorry." He murmured, turning to leave, but she stopped him – her arm closing around the crook of his elbow.

"I'm not in love with you Greg." The words were like knives to him.

"No? Well I can't say I'm surprised." He tried to laugh but she could tell that it hurt him to say it.

"I'm not in love with Rafi anymore either." The words were no more than a whisper and she choked back a sob.

"So... What're you saying Sahira? For weeks we've been going around in circles and I can't do it anymore. As much as I love being around you I can't keep waiting... hoping..."

* * *

"How do you know?" She asked.

"How do I know what?" He returned her question.

"Well you know... that you_ love_ me." She clarified and that word on her lips, that devastating word, sounded incredible in her beautiful, sensual voice.

"I know because I have never felt this way before. I can't bear to be apart from you but you have the ability to completely frustrate me and I always forgive you because in the end, fighting with you is sometimes the best part of my day... some days it's the only way I get to see your beautiful eyes shine with passion, when they don't look so sad..."

"What if this is just lust Greg? I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost..." She replied, butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"You won't be, I promise." He told her in ardent profession. He reached between them, his fingers twining with hers and then his hands finally closing around her slender wrists. "I would never hurt you Sahira, I love you." He told her, suddenly feeling his inhibitions fade away.

"This is a big risk for me, I don't even know why I'm standing here talking to you about this." She half laughed at her own rashness.

"You're here because you want this Sahira." He told her in his intense way.

"Please..." She started to protest.

"Don't tell me you don't want me. I know you do." He told her, dismissing he protest and moving in closer to her.

* * *

His lips began ghosting her jaw, dropping the tiniest of kisses at intervals along that smoothly jutting plane. He couldn't help the slight thrill which coursed through him when he realised that she wasn't pushing him away. After a while, he noticed that she was shifting a little and he couldn't help but think that the moment had passed, until his lips brushed against the elegance of her neck as she arched herself closer to him. The skin there was soft, smooth and sweetly scented and his lips seemed to devour her like she was some kind of opiate. The taste of her slightly cinnamony perfume sent a jolt not dissimilar to that of an electrical current straight to his tongue, which, as he heard the tiniest moan of pleasure escape her, extended throughout the whole of his body. They were silent for a few moments as he tended her in this way, the only sound between them the unmistakable rapidity of their breathing. He could have stayed this way forever, her very closeness seemingly enough to satiate his every desire but he knew he should do the right thing. This was not one of his easy conquests after all. This was Sahira and she held a special place in his heart. For this reason alone he drew back, however much it pained him to do so.

"Sahira... "He started but hardly knew how to proceed. What was he supposed to say? How did he begin to express all of his feelings?

"Don't ask me." She begged and he was dumbfounded. Although her actions seemed to suggest that she wanted this, wanted him, he still wanted assurance. Instead of asking her outright, he would have to find some alternative way of affirming it.

"Yes?" He asked simply and this monosyllable left little doubt as to his meaning.

She stared at him meaningfully, her eyes never wavering from his as she took a moment's pause for contemplation. She hardly needed it, she had known almost from the moment he had stepped into this room that this was going to happen and yet her only hesitation was a fleeting thought for the wedding band she usually wore outside of working hours.

"Yes." Her answer was resolute, not betraying one ounce of doubt.

She followed through on this certainty by pressing her body closer to his once more, her arms encircling his neck and pulling his head towards her. He remained mesmerised by her, completely in rapture as she manipulated him like her willing marionette, her movements so sure as their lips met. He allowed his eyes to close only at the last moment, terrified as he was that this was all a dream.

Those lips, plump and perfect as they were, usually engaged in sparring with him and acting as an engine for the expression of her passionate belief, felt as soft as silk against his own and as he felt her tongue, spiced as it was with wine play at the seam of his closed mouth, he could do nothing but surrender to her silent plea. Those first sweeps of her tongue against the moist and yielding walls of his mouth as it tangled with his own were something he knew he could never forget. Her kiss felt like no other he had experienced, it held a potency which extended far beyond the realms of the lustful and drunken kisses of his past and he hardly noticed as her hands slipped beneath the dinner jacket he still wore and began to shirk it down his shoulders, so focused on the caress of her mouth was he. It was only as she disentangled herself from him and stripped the outwear from the crooks of his elbows that he became at all aware of reality.

Whilst they were separated, if only for this tiny moment he took the opportunity to really look at her and she was an image of absolute divinity - her dark and flashing eyes sparkling with lustful delight and her lips already swollen from their brief encounter. The smile which he found teasing at his lips was mirrored with her own before her brow became furrowed with a worry he did not like to anticipate. As quickly as her smile had come, so it disappeared and suddenly she was unable to meet his eye. Panic began to swell within him and he instinctively reached out to her, his fingers lifting her chin and encouraging her to look at him.

"Sahira?" His tone was curious and he couldn't bear to ask the question he knew he should.

"Promise me..." She paused, gathering some courage "promise me that I won't be hurt." She sounded almost like a child as she implored this.

"I could never do anything which would cause you harm" he promised, taking a moment's breath before continuing "and I would tear any man limb from limb who would cause you pain." He promised her ardently and he wasn't even aware of the cliche which caused her to let out an embarrassed giggle.

"How very chivalrous of you Mr Douglas." She smiled a little before allowing her lips to meld with his again. As his arms wrapped around her waist he could hardly believe that this was happening.

* * *

He supposed he'd always hoped that a night like this would come, ever since the first time he had set eyes on her he had wanted her but in recent months his feelings had become less carnal, that wasn't to say they weren't there it just meant that he had been connecting with her on a deeper level. He'd worked hard to respect her marriage, he'd curbed his desires and tried to maintain distance from her but in the end he was inexorably linked to her by the power of that muscle that they both fought to save on a daily basis and it had been maddening. He guessed he simply couldn't believe that they had come full circle and now this moment was about pure lust and complicated love.

He felt her beginning to work the buttons on his shirt loose and he couldn't help but feel slightly panicked. He hated being in this submissive position, usually he was dominant and had a record in these situations. Ten seconds to get a woman out of her dress, a further five to have her naked and at his mercy and five full and heavy minutes to do the deed before absolutely no call backs the morning after but now with this woman, he had no desire to prove himself as some kind of Casanova. He only wanted to be with her. That was all that mattered to him.

The shirt was soon hanging loosely from his shoulders and he felt himself drawing in a sharp breath as her finger ran a slow path down his rapidly rising and falling chest. When she reached the fastening of his trousers, she seemed to hesitate and began to trace her way back up his body. Upon reaching his heart she stopped, letting her hand rest over the firm wall of his chest. It didn't take long for her to recognise the distinctive thrum of his racing heart. He laughed a little awkwardly at this intimate motion and this only exacerbated the speed of his heart rate.

"D_o I _really make you feel like that?" It seemed that she couldn't quite believe that this was true.

"I would have thought that much was obvious." He replied.

She drew in a slow breath as she processed this and it was only now with this exchange of raw emotion that this seemed to become real. "Probably just about as obvious as this." She murmured, reaching for his hand and placing it firmly over her heart where she held it. She knew without needing him to say anything that her own heart was about ready to burst out of her chest but that look of satisfaction on his face made her sure that whatever the ramifications in the morning, for right now this was the only thing which made sense. There in that intense moment, they seemed to come to some silent agreement- one that did not require any further words. Emotions seemed to rule them as they began to appreciate the true intimacy of the moment.

Somehow they became entwined in each other, their bodies moulding together. Soon, as their lips met in insistent and ferocious kisses, he was gripping her tightly and walking them both back into the room. When her legs hit the back of the bed he jostled forward a little and they broke apart in shock.

"You know, I'm not exactly one of your nurses." She murmured and the way she had said 'one of your nurses' hit him somewhere deep.

"I never said that I wanted you to be." He sounded hurt and she was sorry.

"I mean it Greg, I'm not perfect." She told him, averting her eyes from his intense stare as she thought of the various markers of her children's births on her body.

When she was with Rafi it was always in the dark and besides, the changes her body had undergone had been in the pursuit of their photo ready family and he had always kind of accepted that she was as perfect as she could be – as long as he never saw her without her makeup things were fine. But this was a new man and he had probably been with hundreds of women all of whom fit the 'Ava' stereotype. She was never going to fit that mould and suddenly she felt insecure about being here at all.

"I don't want you to be like anybody else Sahira, I want _you_."

"What I'm talking about are physical things Greg... imperfections... scars." She replied, tears glittering in her eyes again.

"Scars? That's what you're worried about?" He seemed surprised and she misinterpreted his tone for mockery.

"So now you're laughing at me?" Her voice sounded pained and he had caused that.

"Ok look everyone has scars Sahira, you and me both." He assured her, going for the button and zip on his trousers.

"Greg what're you..." She began to protest, but the words died on her lips as he watched him step out of his trousers and kick off his shoes.

He said nothing as he stepped closer to her again, a dangerous move considering the thin disguise to his desires right now. He resolutely grabbed her hand and although she tried to pull away eventually she relented.

"Appendix." He told her guiding her hand over the relevant scar. Her breathing sharpened as her fingers brushed against the slightly raised skin and they shared a shy smile as he began to move her hand lower.

Her fingers caught briefly in the soft whorls of the dark hair which dusted his left thigh before she felt the presence of yet another scar. "My old friend Declan, he was what you might call 'a football hooligan' with a fondness for using his studs to get his own way if you know what I mean." He laughed a little before turning his body beneath her touch "and these are the memories my dear old dad left behind." He admitted as he felt the burn of her gaze of the welts on his lower back.

"I was the last born, a runt and my drunken miner father made me pay for it with the buckle of his belt..." He paused for a moment as the emotion of the thing he had never told to anyone washed over him.

"Greg I'm so sorry, I didn't know." She breathed, her lips caressing the protruding blades of his shoulders and moving lower.

"Why would you? I didn't mention it because it isn't important to me now... or at least it never had been until I found myself stood here with a beautiful woman who thinks that marks on her skin will make the slightest bit of difference to how I feel about her. So I guess the question is do they really matter that much to you because they don't mean a thing to me. They're just marks." He tried to assure her with as much feeling as he could and for a moment they were both silent until she began to manipulate him back around to face her.

"You use that word like it's so easy for you... 'Beautiful'..." She murmured after a while and the sad tone really struck a nerve with him.

"Sahira if you don't hear that word every day, if _he_ doesn't tell you, if you don't know that's what you are then there is something very wrong with the way you have been treated. Look at you tonight..." He paused, searching for the means of expressing himself.

"You had me mesmerised the moment you appeared in that dress. You look like some kind of exotic princess... You are stunning and having you standing next to me made me the envy of every posh-nod there. Me... The poorest guy in that room... Tonight you made me the richest because you left with me – you went to the bar with me and not one of those wannabe benefactors and just for one night I was the one that every other man was jealous of. There was finally a reason for me to be the equal of every man who's ever looked down on me..." His passionate gratitude and admiration overwhelmed him and she suddenly felt the need to fill the silence.

"Hmm now you mention it I should probably go and find one of my _sugar daddies, _we have to think of the hospital... We wouldn't want to waste and opportunity like this..." She murmured and he couldn't help but note the suggestion in her voice.

"We certainly wouldn't... which is why you're not going anywhere." He replied slightly aggressively, catching her lips with his again – hungry for her kiss.

"Yes." She mumbled against his mouth after several minutes of languorously perfect kisses.

"Yes?" He quirked his eyebrow in curiosity.

"I'm sure." She told him and he knew then that she was answering his earlier unspoken question.

"So... Help me?" She asked quietly, turning her back towards him.

* * *

His fingers shook as they closed around the first of the several tiny buttons on the back of her dress. His breath felt constricted in his chest and he hardly dared to let it release as he watched the material begin to slacken. When he felt her lean herself back into him, his confidence peaked and his lips began to follow the downward path of his fingers as the dress began to gape.

"Tell me again." She begged as he eased the dress from her shoulders. "Tell me please." Her voice was shaking as she felt the dress catch her at waist.

His lips ghosted the smooth skin of her back and even though she faced away from him, he could tell she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. "You're beautiful and I love you Sahira..."

Upon hearing those words she made a slow revolution towards him, wiggling her hips just a little and feeling the soft silk pool at her feet. She looked down at herself for a moment and was grateful in those tense seconds that she had chosen the plunging ivory silk bustier she wore now. She didn't quite like to think that she had been expecting this to happen, that she had known that tonight would be the night that he would break down the barriers she kept putting up – she hadn't even known he was coming with her until a few hours ago, but something had possessed her to choose this particular lingerie and as she stood beneath the intensity of his gaze, she was glad she had. He seemed transfixed, his breathing became suddenly shallow as slowly, he rested his hand against the slight curve of her stomach and felt her silken skin beneath his fingertips for the first time.

"Sahira..." Her name was no more than a throaty whisper but it sent a convulsion of passion right up her spine and she turned her head into his, catching his lips again as his hand slid up her body and settled on her left breast.

They shared several small but passionate kisses in this stance, their breathing sporadic as in their desperation to remain connected in this way, neither one of them would relinquish their possession of the other's lips long enough to take a breath. Eventually he seemed to tire of this limited access to her and began to spin her gently in arms until they were face to face. Her emotions were driving her so much so that she was barely aware of the way he manipulated her. All she knew was this was the most beautiful experience she had ever had and she thanked whatever deity had drawn them together. No man had looked at the way that Greg Douglas was right now. Never had she been made to feel so wanted and yet so loved. She supposed that was what was making her so emotional- the knowledge that as much as he desired her, he loved her more and she sensed that he would do just about anything to make her happy.

As her hands settled on his shoulders and he drew her in for yet another blisteringly hot kiss, she felt her body begin to quake with nervous and excited anticipation and she hoped that he would not misconstrue this as a mark of inexperience or doubt. She tried to tell him this with her kiss, her tongue sweeping against the walls of his mouth before darting into the depths of that dark cavern, withdrawing and repeating the process. Their tongues fought a battle and she smiled against his mouth when she realised he was letting her win. That was the thing with Greg, he tried to pose a threat to her, but in the end he would submit to her because he felt too strongly for her to see her unhappy and if making her happy meant letting her have her way then that was would he would do. Despite the clarity of her unmistakable passions, he felt her trembling in his arms like a bride on her wedding night and he wished to treat her as such. She was a treasure and he intended to remind her of that for as long as she would allow him to. He drew back then, concern filling his eyes as they stood together in the charged silence.

"You're shaking." He murmured and the rolling timbre of his voice as he used that concerned tone only created further pulses of desire which travelled her body, adding to the violence with which she shook beneath his touch. She swallowed hard and tried to steady herself as his fingers caressed the definition of her cheek bone. Eventually she mustered enough courage to make a reply.

"I want you." She whispered, sliding her hands down between them and settling them over the front of his boxers and allowing her fingers to tease him a little. It seemed to be working and she let out a low giggle. Her voice or at least the laugh she emitted was thick with desire and it was those three little words which truly solidified the reality of this night for her. Finally after weeks of pretending otherwise, she had found it within herself to admit the truth.

* * *

She gripped his strong shoulders tightly as she kissed him again, this time with determination and drive. She wanted him, her body ached for him and she needed him now. She let the butterflies in her stomach fly away and began to walk them back towards the bed. Her confidence increased as over his shoulder she could see that they were near to their destination. She smiled against his mouth and nipped lightly at his lips when she felt him hit the end of the bed and grip her a little more tightly for fear of losing his balance. It reassured her of his vulnerability and also excited her beyond measure. He would be under her power, she could control him just for this moment and that thought was delicious. She was prepared for him to make the first descent onto the bed and she gave his shoulders another push to put this idea into motion. She found him decidedly less flexible than she had imagined he would be and it seemed that he had been preparing for her less than subtle plan. What she rather foolishly did not anticipate was his quick reversal of their positions...

Before she even had time to catch her breath, her back hit the softness of the mattress and in seconds she found herself almost spread eagled beneath him in a similar way that she would have delighted in seeing him assume. She pouted a little but did not attempt to shield herself from his penetrating stare. She felt mildly uncomfortable as a prickly sort of heat spread over her burning skin but the attention was incredible. He laughed a little as she continued to pout, furrowing her brow in irritated and almost pained frustration.

"You see Miss Shah, it's not nice to tease..." His tone was laughing as he knelt on the end of the bed and lifted her left leg a little. His hand ran down the smooth, polished skin and settled on her shoe, his fingers deftly unbuckling the strap and watching as it fell away from her foot. "You don't need these... You're beautiful just the way you are" he mumbled as he heard it hit the plush carpet and moved to the other. When he had divested her of both the shoes, he raised her leg further still kissing the arch of her foot and letting his lips replace the attentions of his hand.

She must have realised what he was doing because as his lips moved higher she began to shift restless beneath him. She was wonderful, she was a delight... She was sexy as hell and that was precisely the reason why he did not want to rush. She was a Princess and she deserved to be treated like one. The unbridled moan which escaped her as his lips connected with the searing skin of her inner thigh made the discomfort he was experiencing seem greatly diminished and he could not help but laugh a little against her as his fingers joined his mouth and began to tease the edges of the lace trimmed silk underwear she wore.

"Hot in here isn't it?" He teased as his lips ghosted across the front panel of her lingerie.

"Oh God... Please Greg... Please." She begged as his finger slipped in and out of the luxuriant fabric, brushing against her burning inferno but never once affording her any satisfaction.

"What do you say?" He asked like she was a chastised child.

"I_ said _please." She pouted.

"That's not the magic word I'm looking for. You were a naughty girl Sahira. What do naughty girls have to say?" He asked playfully.

Her eyes flashed in recognition of what he wanted from her, she was reluctant to give him that satisfaction. Her resolution was strong but as his fingers delved beneath the silk and into the soft welcome of her intimacy, once again she found herself powerless to resist giving him what he wanted, even it was only to enable her to get what she wanted.

"I'm sorry for teasing you Greg." She told him, though even she could hear how disingenuous she sounded.

"Oh_ really_... How sorry?" He asked raising an eyebrow sceptically and trying to keep the lust he felt from his face as she peppered tiny and slow kisses across his collarbone and down his chest.

"About as sorry as I need to be to get you to do..." Her words died on her lips as he curled his fingers inside of her again and her inner muscles began to convulse.

"Oh you mean... _This_?" He asked, repeating his earlier action and taking great pleasure from the languorous groan she emitted."Well now that's nothing" he dismissed the movement casually, though she clearly disagreed.

"You know what I have been wondering" he told her as he kissed his way across her stomach "is where these scars you were so worried about are because you are perfect as far as I'm concerned." He finished and she knew that he meant every word.

"Greg, they're not exactly scars... It's just I'm not your regular Barbie doll... I've lived... I'm a mother." She sighed.

"Are we talking about what I think we're talking about?" He asked in surprise and she seemed to confirm his suspicions by turning her head away in embarrassment.

* * *

In response he angled his body away from her, so that he could concentrate on the task at hand. Namely giving her back the confidence she had so clearly lost. He reached down between them and gripped the edges of her underwear, slowly pulling the expensive fabric down her legs and off. She gasped and this reaction gave them a moment to really stop and consider the changes which had occurred between them. When she made no move to stop him, even at this late point, he allowed his lips to continue their exploration of her heated skin. He did not stop until he felt that he has explored every inch of her. His quick, hot tongue had taken advantage of the way she had instinctively moved her thighs apart swirling, dipping and plunging in the depths of her sensitised cavern until her soft and quiet moans had turned into undisguised screams of pleasure as his persistent efforts caused her to fall over the edge of her limitations. As he began to kiss his way back up her body, his lips brushed against the sexy swell of her hip and it was here that he noticed the only blemish to her perfection. Five faint and thin lines fairly evenly spaced and hardly noticeable to the undiscerning eye but obviously enough of a hang up for her that he knew he couldn't or wouldn't mock her.

"See...they're ugly." She told him clearly misinterpreting his silence and he knew those words had been told to her on numerous occasions, he also knew who had told her but he would not think about that now because tonight was just about them.

"No..." He paused moving himself so that they were face to face again. "They're not. Every mark is a memory, every memory is precious and you will always be beautiful - nothing can change that." He assured her with a kiss.

"You know you really are a sweetheart aren't you Mr Douglas?"

"Ssh don't shout about it, all the girls will hear!" He laughed but ceased when he noticed the cloud which had appeared on her face.

"All of them?" The words sounded strangled in her voice.

"Sahira it was a joke, I promise you there is only you. I love _you_." He didn't care how many times he had to say it or what damage it did to his image, without her he simply didn't make sense.

"You promise?"

"I do." He confirmed ardently.

"You do? Well then I'm very glad that I don't have to share you." She replied sitting up a little and meeting him halfway.

* * *

They kissed feverishly for several minutes both of them content with this closeness but not for long. Soon he was using the advantage of her new position to strip her of her last remaining item of clothing. The second he did, everything changed again -where there had been tenderness in his eyes, now there was feral passion. A fire seemed to burn within him and it was a fire she had stoked. His lips moved back down her body and caressed the valley between her breasts. As his mouth closed around her sensitive peak she let out a low groan of satisfied pleasure.

"So I guess you're a 'breast man'?" She asked with a small laugh.

"Mm... I'm a 'you' man but yes I do like your breasts..." He muttered against her.

"Hmm... as much as this poetry is flattering can we _please_...you know." She urged him impatiently.

"You know?" He smiled cattishly.

"Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

"I think you might have to yeah..." He told her with a grin.

"Please Greg... Make love to me." She was almost crying with frustration now.

"Wait... Are you... protected?" He asked quietly.

"No... Rafi doesn't believe in it... You know, maybe we shouldn't do this after all..." She spoke with regret.

"Is that what you want?" He asked releasing his hold on her to allow her the choice.

She blew out a slow breath as she considered this "if I say 'no' am I the worst person in the world?" She asked.

"You're not a bad person at all Sahira... You are very, _very _good and you are allowed to do something just for you every now and then." He assured her.

"But how can we if...?" She broke off and looked away.

"Ok, if I tell you that I have something in my pocket... would you think I was totally presumptive?" He asked nervously.

"Ordinarily maybe but right now... I think you are a genius." She replied with a smile, pressing a quick kiss to his smiling mouth as he got up and rooted around in his abandoned trousers for what they needed.

* * *

In the short moments he was gone she had managed to rearrange herself on the bed and, as he turned back around the light hit all of her curves and highlighted them to perfection.

"Now it hardly seems fair... Here I am completely exposed and yet you still have some clothes on..."

"Well, that's easily sorted." He replied, stepping out of his boxers and feeling her intense gaze on him.

She gasped, hardly hiding her surprise as she observed his hardened desire. "Why don't you come over here, let's see if I can't help you with that problem." She told him, unable to contain her smile as she watched him walking towards her with confidence.

"Sahira..."

"Ssh..." She whispered.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, I promise." She assured him, her legs parting to accommodate him.

* * *

No more words seemed necessary. Everything that could be said had been, all assurances had been made and now all that was left was this moment when they would finally be together. This thought motivated him as he used his knees to move her legs further apart. He used his finger to pull her chin around so that they were looking each other in the eye. Once he saw the conviction and desire reflected there he knew that he didn't need to keep asking her if this was what she wanted, he could see it there. He waited just a beat more, his lips never leaving hers as he pushed inside of her. For a moment he was frozen by one thought: That this was exactly where he was supposed to be and that she was the woman he wanted to be with. He looked down at her in the seconds after that initial thrust and he had never seen such an image of divine perfection. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut but she had such a look of contentment on her face that he knew she was happy. With this knowledge, he began to move within her slowly at first but as he felt her respond he increased his pace and pressure until she was practically levitating from the bed to meet his thrusts.

Her breathing was sharp and her grip on his torso was vice like but he would not have forsaken this moment for any other. Being here with her was intense and emotional and like nothing he had ever experienced. He was willing to go anywhere with her, do anything for her and he had never felt like that about any woman. He had always known she was special but now he knew that there would never be another woman like her as long as he lived.

They were all about the give and take, he would thrust and she would meet him, he would kiss her and she would kiss him back, but suddenly things changed. She was fighting him, wrestling with him until she was on top and he was completely mesmerised by her. It could have been hours that they spent that way, but time hardly seemed to matter. All that seemed important was their closeness and connection. They changed positions countless times, never once relinquishing their hold on one another as they moved together. It was beautiful it was perfect and it was completely life altering on so many levels and in ways they would probably never understand.

It was as she let herself drop down onto him for the umpteenth time that she felt it, a familiar surge of uncomfortable pleasure building within her to an incredible crescendo and she couldn't help the slight scream of delight which escaped her as it began to overwhelm her. He looked up at her in wonderment as he watched her experiencing such utter torment and he couldn't help but feel the same range of emotions beginning to coil deep within him.

"Sahira... Look at me." He instructed as he saw her begin to leave him.

Her head snapped around and her eyes opened, revealing swirling pools of emotions, things he could never understand but which simultaneously seemed completely comprehensible to him now.

"It's Ok, let go." He told her, pulling her closer to him and settling his hands on the perfect globes of her wonderful bum.

"Greg..." His name escaped her in a rush of air as he thrust up into her one final time and she finally lost control.

* * *

His hand reached out for her instinctively, but recoiled as instead of feeling the warmth of her body he met with the cool sheets. A feeling of dread spread within him as he realised that this was what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a 'morning after desertion'. It was awful and it made him want to pull the covers over his head and drown in the memory of how perfect last night had been. Throughout the entirety of the night they had made love three times and each time he had found himself falling even more deeply in love with her than he had thought was possible and now, here he was alone and in a worse position than he had been before _that_ kiss.

He ran a hand over his face in an effort to clear his mind. If he could just forget her, the way she looked beneath him, on top of him and beside him then he would be Ok. He could go back to work in morning and face her because he could get the sound of his name in her lustful tone out of his head but it was no use. She had permeated every fibre of his being and he knew he would never shake her. He supposed he deserved it. He had wanted what he couldn't have and now he was paying the price for being so glutinous but he simply couldn't feel bad about it. It would be hard to face her now but he would always have the memory of her surrender.

He rolled over and opened his eyes and looked sadly at the space where she should have been. He supposed that it would have been a moment too perfect to wake up and find her there, but he had been misguided by a romantic delusion, mesmerised by her ivory dress and captivated by the sad Princess she had seemed to become last night and now he was faced with reality. After a few moments more self pity he sat up. Sooner or later he would have to face reality so it might as well be sooner.

* * *

Just as he was preparing to get out of bed, he heard the distinctive click of the door and then suddenly she was there and if it was possible, she looked more perfect than she had last night. She filled the door frame for a second before she closed it behind her and stepped into the room. He did not speak for a few moments in case his voice would break the spell of this moment and instead he just watched her. She was beautiful. Her hair twisted up into a messy top knot and her perfect figure dressed only his shirt. Her stunningly shapely legs were bare and she wore no makeup and still she looked like a Goddess.

"Still in bed Mr Douglas?" She smiled widely.

"You're here." He murmured instead of replying and he knew he sounded like a love sick puppy.

"Where else would I be?" She asked in genuine curiosity.

"I don't know... You were gone I thought..."

She interrupted him before he could finish the thought. "I was hungry, I thought we should have some breakfast before we leave but the buffet is closed since we slept so late so..." She paused and held up the spoils of her wanderings.

"Coffee and Malteasers? Perfect." He laughed as she came to join him on the bed, noting how she had chosen her favourite sweet treat.

"Mm hmm like last night." She smiled.

"It was... wasn't it?" He seemed tentative. "No regrets?" He asked after a minute.

"No... But I did make a mistake." She told him, sucking in a breath.

"Oh?" He seemed nervous.

"Yeah, I told you I wasn't in love with you... I should have told you I'm not in love with you _yet." _She told him and he couldn't suppress his happiness and relief.

"Ok, so what happens now?" He asked not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Now, I'm going to kiss you and then, we're going to get up and go home. Tomorrow whilst my children are still with their grandmother, you're going to come and take me out somewhere and then I'm going to see if loving you is something I can do..."

"Do yo think it is something you could do?" He asked hopefully.

"I think it just might be." She told him in a matter of fact tone before leaning in close to him and fulfilling the first part of her action plan with a passionate kiss...

* * *

**Well there it is, a little long I'll grant you but I hope that you enjoy reading my little take on this relationship. It was my goal to post this before last night's episode but uni did not permit me too unfortunately. Luckily the only alteration I had to make was Rafi's job but everything else still fit. I hope you'll let me know what you thought of this, reviews inspire me as well as making my day just a little bit brighter. **

**I think I caught all the edits but if not please forgive me. **

**Look out for more Holby musings soon including the Jac/ Joseph one I mentioned... **

**Much love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


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